


That was it

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Especially the major character death one, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Dies, Lance-centric, Langst, One Shot, Other characters only mentioned, Sad Ending, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Set somewhere around season 4, Suicidal Lance (Voltron), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Whump, dark shit, in that nebulous area for sure, or season 5, please read the tags, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The events have been wearing Lance down to his last string, and that night... he was pretty sure it broke.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64
Collections: Anonymous





	That was it

So… that was it, then.

For some reason, Lance had expected everything to keep him on his toes, so he would be ready for the next surprise attack from whatever was against Voltron. In a way, it did. At first.

He hadn’t expected himself to get used to it.

Even worse, he hadn’t even expected himself to get _bored_ by it.

While the attacks remained unexpected, some kind of routine had been instilled on top of it, as they started learning how to fight alongside each other. It had been thrilling, at first, when he was with Blue.

He knew he wasn’t the most valuable person on the team, if they had to be compared individually. All of them had many flaws, but only Lance didn’t have a special skill set like the others did. But that lack of exceptionality wasn’t a big deal, when he knew he was still part of the team. He needed them like they needed him to form Voltron.

Blue was right there for every up and downs. She was roaring in his mind alongside his cheers when they were victorious. She was like a reassuring presence that loosened his shoulders when he was tense because they- he -messed up the mission.

He knew he had to work hard to even think of catching up with the others, but in the end, he was still an important member of the team. It almost felt like a little space-made family.

Almost.

Because Shiro disappeared. Because Blue shut him out. Because Red only truly interacted with him when she was needed for battles.

He understood. The situation was less than ideal. Blue’s complete silence was harsh, but he guessed - he _hoped_ \- it had been because that whole switch was hard on her too. Some kind of far from the mind, far from the heart situation. He took it on himself to try to be the bigger person. It was hard and often felt like an ungrateful job. But he was needed.

It would probably get better as soon as they would find Shiro, right?

Shiro came back. Blue’s particle barrier stayed firmly in place. Red only kept interacting during battles, only for Lance to feel her longing for her previous paladin.

Now, they were one paladin too many.

Things only got worse.

Black accepted Shiro back, and now, not only did he have to fill Keith’s shoes for Red, he had to fill Keith’s shoes for the black paladin, and slowly, the rest of the team too: the battlefield genius of the team had left. 

And aside from training until he was reaching the brink of exhaustion, what was a talentless person like him supposed to do?

He tried pulling his best Keith moves: training as if it was the only hobby he had, getting injured rushing in the fray, getting reckless for many different things. The only few Lance things he had kept was putting himself between the enemies and his team when they were at risk.

All the other Lance stuff had been thrown out. No more superficial routines. No more sleeping in.

Lance shifted his position as he sat on the bed, and kept twirling his bayard in his hand as he ruminated over what his life had become.

His new routine had settled not long ago, hadn’t it? 

He would wake up, eat, train until the next meal, eat again and then train again. The only few times he would get a break from all that training was during the occasional diplomatic meetings, or the battles that took place.

The battles where he was constantly scolded, asked to be more careful, or painfully reminded he should be more like Keith, even though he would never be capable of that, whether he wanted it or not. He would always be Lance the talentless.

He didn’t even know what was the point of trying anymore.

Shiro wanted Keith. The team wanted Keith. Red wanted Keith, and sometimes gave him flashes of what he was doing through the connection she had with him when her longing got the best of her during battle.

He caught his bayard before it slipped away from his hands when a twirl got a bit more aggressive than it should have been.

Lance knew he was just a placeholder. It was clearer than ever. 

He was on a team of geniuses. Team Punk was going stronger than it ever had before, developing incredible tech and improving everything they could get their hands on. Shiro was in tune with Black, and led them with ease through battles and showed more than once the extent of his tactical prowesses. Keith, even though he was there only momentarily, was the driving force of the battle, his recklessness paired finely with the skills he had with weaponry.

And Allura.

Allura was a master diplomat alongside Coran, but had bonded with Blue faster than he could ever had hoped to do. They were truly made for one another. She had unveiled many hidden powers nobody knew the Lion could have, that had been more than useful in battle. All the moves Lance had failed to pull, she did them with ease.

How could he ever hope to be anything in a team like this? He knew he was the thing that was holding them back from their full potential.

He also knew what would make them reach their full potential.

He stopped twirling his Bayard, holding it firmly in his hands.

He had been thinking about it for a while. He used to have some lingering unease gathering at the top of his stomach when pondering the idea before, but now it sounded like the only reasonable option.

He activated the bayard, inspecting it, even though he knew by heart what the blaster looked like. He hunched slightly over the bed.

Should he…? 

He deactivated his weapon.

Maybe it wouldn’t be ideal for him to do that with the bayard. Especially since they were one of a kind, and that meant Keith would have to use it. He wasn’t sure the real red paladin would be alright using the weapon that would have blown his brains out.

He guessed the team cared a little. It was weirder and weirder to imagine however. When he thought back on it, it was probably all fake. They had been more annoyed than amused by his antics, after all. They probably were just being polite with him, because they had to work in a team together to save the galaxy. After all, if his own whiny personality was grating to him, it could only be worse for other people.

Though he had promised them he would take them all on a tour of Varadero Beach as a vacation. He had spoken extensively about the pizza place and their garlic knots. That could be a reason to stay.

If they ever got back home. Which probably wouldn’t be likely.

He activated his bayard once again. He supposed he should have cared about his promise of a better time, somehow, it felt he should be caring about it. But he didn’t. At least not enough anymore.

The weapon was heavy in his hands.

In the end, they would be better off without him, really. He wasn’t even sure he could be considered a friend. More like a burden they had to drag when they had the perfect missing piece right there. He didn’t know how he had fooled them into somewhat liking him. If they liked him. Maybe before. Now he was sure he was just a hindrance to missions, whether they were diplomatic or if they required more action.

The truth he’d come to accept was that… yes. He was just a placeholder for someone much greater than he would ever be. 

His grip hardened around the gun, and he stood a little bit straighter.

He was easily forgotten too, he was sure. Replaceable.

And he would put that worthless quality to use.

He nested the nuzzle of the blaster under his chin, and adjusted the position so it wouldn’t leave him a single chance. It would truly be pitiful if he even failed at that.

He distantly wondered if he should have persevered in writing letters to the team. He shook off the thought. What was he supposed to say that they didn’t already know? He was messed up and would never be enough. The letters would probably fool them into thinking they actually cared, when they should just forget about him quickly, so Keith could step back as the real red paladin. They needed to realize he would only be a hindrance as long as he was alive.

Not being alive would definitely help them get over that fact.

He charged up the blaster.

He wondered if it would be calmer. Maybe the incessant flow of information and misery would stop. Maybe, it would even be quiet.

He sure hoped so, and he didn’t want to waste another second before finding out.

Lance pulled the trigger, and that was it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> If you made it down to the end, first of all: I hope everything's okay for you! 
> 
> I also hope that this very Lance-centric piece was enjoyable to read! I'd love to hear what you thought about it, although I'm aware it's definitely not a fun story. I still thank you for reading it however!
> 
> Cheers!


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